


colors

by FamiliarBluebird



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, E for later chapters, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 06:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14514648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FamiliarBluebird/pseuds/FamiliarBluebird
Summary: Crimson is the color of his eyes, staring through the bars of Kaze’s cell. His stone face betrays no sign of having ever moved, as if chiseled from marble. Perhaps those pressed lips had never smiled; perhaps those eyes had never seen any kindness in the world.And yet, he saves Kaze.





	1. black

Crimson is the color of his eyes, staring through the bars of Kaze’s cell and scrutinizing the newest Hoshidan prisoner. They reveal no compassion for the ninja’s situation, chained by his ankles to the filthy stone floor of Nohr’s dungeon. They peer into Kaze’s soul, testing the Hoshidan’s defiance, sated only when Kaze glares back.

Had Nohr been a just land, perhaps Kaze would have assumed the man was a judge, observing the defendant before he was to be brought to trial for espionage and other crimes against the state. But Nohr’s people were only barbarians and foul rats; a hearing would never come, nor did Kaze entertain any chances of being released. However, his visitor could not be a judge: no lord of the court could handle himself as regally as he. In front of him, Kaze feels feeble; maintaining eye contact with his inspector is as demanding as carrying boulders.

His stone face betrays no sign of having ever moved, as if chiseled from marble. Perhaps those pressed lips had never smiled; perhaps those eyes had never seen any kindness in the world. 

Gold is the color of his curled hair, the last he saw of his only visitor as his cell returns to the cold darkness of Nohr’s night. The wordless interaction leaves Kaze’s resolution shaken and his mind in disarray; he feels utterly alone, captured in the land of the enemy. How ashamed his brother must be, were he to hear the news. Would Saizo act rationally? Would Saizo assemble a party to wrest his twin from Nohr’s clutches?

Ah, how easy these wistful fantasies were to ponder. Saizo had more duties than that of family; the leader of a clan and the retainer to the High Prince would have more pressing affairs than the capture of his brother. With a conceding sigh, Kaze banishes all thoughts of escaping this gloomy prison, accepting a grim fate of rotting away in his cell.

Booming is his voice, capable of bending the elements to its will, no doubt. However, it merely decrees that the Hoshidan prisoners be well-fed and dressed for tomorrow’s event.


	2. green

How perplexing it is, to see the green of his gi and the purple of his scarf once again, thrown carelessly between metal bars. He had expected to die in the same gray prisoner's rags in which he had arrived. No doubt Kaze is to become an example to all other Hoshidan spies: to be hanged in a public execution, warding off enemies of the state.

And yet, Kaze complies.

His clothes smell of citrus fruit, having become softer than they ever had been before. Thin fingers graze the fibers as he enjoys the feeling of something familiar, despite welling nostalgia of Igasato tearing his heart in two. He is to become a Hoshidan ninja once more, casting off his proof of being a Nohrian prisoner.

"Hurry up," his guard spits, disgusted with the dawdling of a dead man. "The King will not tolerate waiting."  
"And how am I to wear these britches with my feet anchored to the floor?" This had not occurred to the guard, apparently. Perhaps this event is not as common as Kaze had thought.  
"Your arms," the guard demands, procuring shackles from a hook. As commanded, Kaze pokes his thin arms through the bars, where they were promptly chained together.

The guard does not take his eyes off of the prisoner as he enters, warily freeing Kaze's ankles. But he does underestimate the speed with which Kaze kicks off his helmet with one foot and delivers a blow to the neck with the other. He collapses with a shout, stunned by the force of the kick. The clamoring awakens the party waiting for him; rushed and heavy footsteps come to his aid, ready to crush the resistor.

It’s him. The gargoyle with hair of gold and eyes of blood. Today, he is covered in black plated armor, of quality Kaze has never seen before: brilliant gold trimmed each edge and a luxurious satin drapes down his front. 

In a single moment, the man assesses the situation, and for a moment, Kaze detects an emotion in the blank slate of the man’s face: he is impressed. It’s replaced by that same sternness as his eyes refocus on Kaze’s.

“Get up, and leave my sight,” the voice of authority commands, “I will attend to the prisoner myself.”  
“Yes, Lord Xander.” The guard takes no time to shoot Kaze a foul look before he shuffles out of the cell.

Xander is his name. With that information, Kaze is finally able to piece together the pieces; why the man wears such expensive clothes and armor, and how he radiates an aura of command: he is the Crown Prince of Nohr. Why he comes to visit a shamed ninja, however, is unclear.

He unbinds Kaze’s arms, glaring expectantly at the ninja, as if his piercing gaze alone could defeat all of Kaze’s defiance. His constricting voice crushes each thought in Kaze’s mind as it rumbles throughout every fiber of his being: “You will put those on. Then, you will follow us without incident.” The manner of speech reminds Kaze of Ryoma; unyielding and final.

Xander’s eyes do not divert from Kaze as he sheds his rags. Vulnerability torments Kaze, so bare before the knight in layers of impenetrable black iron. He feels shame, unlike that of failed missions or disappointing his twin. How frail he feels before the Crown Prince, with bones that could be snapped with a single swoop of an armored arm. Kaze does not meet those eyes again, failing to show the defiance he so proudly displayed the evening before. After he dons his clothes, he follows behind Xander without contention.


	3. white

It’s her.

How many years ago had it been, since he had seen her last? Nevertheless, it was unmistakable: she still carried the same innocence and determination from back then. Her white hair still flowed as she tilted her hair to inspect her challenge; defeat these enemies of Nohr to prove that she had grown enough to be able to leave the fortress.

He had found her.

It had been Kaze’s fault that she had been taken, but perhaps he could correct that mistake from so many years ago with this fight. No matter how slim the chances, if he and Rinkah would be able to overpower her and her servants, and possibly escape somehow, back to Hoshido, he could finally atone for his failure of his youth.

He prepared himself for battle, quickly discussing tactics with Rinkah and four other Hoshidan warriors. They outnumbered the enemy, six to three, so they would use their advantage of numbers to overpower their foes. Then, Kaze would use a smoke bomb to help the remaining members of the party escape the room. From there, a great unknown remained; no plan could be constructed, given such short notice.

As they are released, his fellow Hoshidans storm the room with a bellowing whoop. Unable to overpower a looming sense of dread, Kaze could not join them. Something much larger than their lives hung above them; he could feel it. Returning Corrin to Hoshido was a mission he could not fail.

“Kill them all,” an ice-cold voice rings out over the arena. Every shred of hope in Kaze’s mind disappears as he finds the source: the Mad King himself had come to bear witness to this battle. It would be impossible to escape this place with the Mad King here, he who is said to be able to strike down any man from any distance with the effort of moving a finger.


	4. red

Kaze is powerless before Corrin. The power of the Origin Dragons seeps through her, while his reactions are slowed with weeks of neglect. She is far too skilled with the blade that saps his strength with each graze, and knocking away the last kunai he had been given with ease.

As soon as he moves in for hand-to-hand, she places the tip of her blade at his throat. Utterly defeated with no tools left at his disposal, he slowly drops to his knees, the last of his party to be downed.

“So this is how it ends…” he mutters, knowing full well that the prisoners would be disposed of as soon as their use was outlived. He had failed Rinkah once again.   
“Finish them.” Again, the Mad King’s voice of power-- this time, drenched in repulsive tones.  
“But, Father… they’re beaten. I will not execute these helpless prisoners.”  
“You dare question me? I order you to kill them!”  
“No! I will not!”  
“Then I will do so myself.”

A surge of power gathers near Kaze, culminating into an explosion of fire. He turns to see a nameless Hoshidan comrade burst into flames, gone too quick to even scream. It wrenches Kaze’s stomach, how such power can be used to evaporate a man’s existence with the bat of an eye.

Ah, he feels the warmth in his chest; fire collected around him. It was his time to leave this world, leaving only the failures he has wrought as his legacy. He closes his eyes, grateful that this death had come quicker than rotting.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees white. She stands before him, shielding him from Garon’s attack. _Corrin, you fool,_ he thinks, _my life was forfeit years ago. Leave me to die, before you are hurt._

“You would defy me directly, Corrin?!”  
Xander finally speaks, intervening to stabilize the situation: “Father, please forgive her! She does not yet understand our situation.”  
“Fine. Xander, you will kill them. And if anybody stops you, you will kill them too.”

She holds her ground against Xander as well. How she can do so mystifies Kaze; Xander exudes a stifling aura, nearly forcing all others to their knees. His voice booms as he gives Corrin one last chance at obedience: “Stand down, Corrin. If you do not, I will be forced to--” 

“No, Xander. I won’t let you do this!”

Blood red is the color Siegfried emanates, Xander does not hesitate to strike-- she had been given her chance to listen, but Garon would not be so patient. This needed to stop before Garon felt he should intervene-- Garon would not be as considerate as Xander. More lives would be lost if Garon would step in.

Kaze can only watch as Siegfried crosses her blade, his injuries keeping him from protecting Corrin as he had done years ago. She manages to protect herself from his attack, causing Xander to scowl: “Why do you refuse, Corrin? You know the Hoshidans are our sworn enemies.”  
“I know… but this is different. These people cannot fight any longer. Why not show them mercy..?”  
“Please, Corrin, don’t fight him… My dear, sweet Corrin…” adds the woman with heathered hair, wishing for the battle to end.

The boy mumbles words Kaze could not understand, summoning a blinding flash of light that strikes Kaze squarely in the chest that causes him to crumple to the floor.

_Finally, I can atone for my failure..._


End file.
